. Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. “Where should we go?” Knowing that they would be dogged wherever they went, she volunteered, “Let’s go to the Big Apple. Two hours had come and gone during this tantalizing occupation. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up.
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